Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C35

Chapter 35

With a soft tak, the door closed behind them. It was a residence he had lived in every day, yet it felt strangely unfamiliar. As Eunmyeong hesitated with the expression of a small animal driven into a corner, Mujin silently led him further inside.

The bedding Mujin always kept beneath the window at the back of the room had been spread out in the center instead. Sitting down upon it, Mujin gave Eunmyeong’s wrist a light tug.

“What are you doing? Sit.”

“Here…?”

“…Do you not want to sit?”

Mujin patted the empty spot beside him, clearly indicating where. Under normal circumstances, Eunmyeong would have seized the chance and climbed right onto the bedding, but not today. Still wary after last night’s kiss, he remained frozen. Mujin glanced at him, gauging his reaction.

“If what happened yesterday made you uncomfortable, I’ll apologize.”

The moment the word yesterday left his mouth, Eunmyeong’s face flushed crimson. Feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, he lowered his head and crouched down.

“…What happened yesterday?”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

“I honestly don’t know…”

Nothing came to mind—neither what he should say nor how he should move forward. The road ahead felt unbearably distant. Eunmyeong squeezed his eyes shut.

If he could, he wanted to look away. Even if only for this moment, he wished he could put the problem off and deal with the more pressing matters first. There was simply too much to do.

This isn’t what matters right now.

At the sight of Eunmyeong’s troubled face, Mujin placed a hand on him. When his fingers gently brushed along Eunmyeong’s cheek, Eunmyeong slowly opened his eyes.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”

“……”

“I said I’d figure it out. I never said I needed an answer right away.”

Mujin’s hand drifted down to Eunmyeong’s lips—lips that surely remembered everything from last night. Without realizing it, Mujin brushed over the slightly swollen flesh.

“I keep looking at you… I’m simply curious as to why.”

At every movement of his hand, the reddish lips trembled. So soft, so smooth—Mujin found himself unable to pull away.

Did they move like this yesterday, too?

When their lips had touched, when he had impatiently invaded Eunmyeong’s mouth—had they trembled like this then as well? Watching them grow redder by the second, like a flower in bloom, Mujin stared in silence.

“You said you wouldn’t ask for an answer… right now.”

“……”

“At this rate, my lips are going to wear out…”

Only then did Mujin snap back to himself and look properly at Eunmyeong. The red that had begun at his cheeks had now spread across his entire face. The instant Mujin withdrew his hand, Eunmyeong darted away to the edge of the bedding as though he’d been waiting for the chance.

The moment his lips disappeared from view, the urge to see them again surged up. He wanted to turn Eunmyeong around—curled up as he was—and kiss him once more.

He wanted to know what shape they took when pressed beneath his own lips, what shade of red they would turn, whether biting, licking, and sucking would make them swell even fuller than now—if coated with saliva, whether they would look as tempting as candied fruit steeped in syrup…

Enough.

Forcing the tangled thoughts out of his head, Mujin decided it would be better not to look any longer. He shifted to a spot behind Eunmyeong.

When fingers touched his hair, Eunmyeong spoke.

“You don’t have to tie my hair today… I just came from home…”

“Isn’t this my job?”

At some point, tying Eunmyeong’s hair had become part of their morning routine. Since Eunmyeong already found it awkward to leave it to the servants, he had even thought of Mujin earlier that morning.

When Mujin gathered the long hair into one hand, Eunmyeong’s pale nape was revealed. Wisps of stray hair fluttered lightly there. Mujin’s gaze seemed nailed to his neck.

“Is my hair tangled?”

When Mujin’s hand didn’t move, Eunmyeong turned his head. His hair slipped free from Mujin’s grasp.

“Young Master?”

Seeing Mujin standing there with his hand raised, utterly still, Eunmyeong stepped closer. Is he sick? He pressed a hand to Mujin’s forehead, but it didn’t seem warm.

That’s strange. Just as Eunmyeong began to fidget with his lips, Mujin caught his hand.

“Your lips.”

“Yes?”

“Could we… just once… see if they fit?”

Heat shimmered in Mujin’s gaze as it dropped to Eunmyeong’s mouth. Anyone with half a brain could tell what that meant.

Eunmyeong’s cheeks burned again. If he could, he wanted to grab the version of himself from last night—the one who had loosened Mujin’s reins—and shake some sense into him.

Why did I ever say something like that?!

Under Mujin’s relentless stare, Eunmyeong shook his head.

“Not yet. No—actually, it’s not about ‘yet’…”

“Not yet?”

Mujin echoed the words as he stepped closer.

“Then when will you allow it? A little later? Tomorrow?”

He looked ready to kiss him at any moment. Panicking, Eunmyeong shouted,

“No, just—no! No!”

Covering his lips with both hands so Mujin couldn’t see them, Eunmyeong retreated. Watching him curl in on himself like a pill bug, Mujin let out an amused chuckle.

“Where are you going?”

“T-the training grounds! Yuseong’s been asking me to play since this morning—I just remembered…!”

“Yuseong isn’t coming today.”

Mujin scoffed softly and patted the bedding, motioning him over. Eunmyeong inhaled sharply.

“N-no. I have to go. Anyway, I’m leaving.”

Barely managing to stand, Eunmyeong rushed toward the door. As he shut it behind him, he caught sight of Mujin still watching—his gaze just as obsessive and desire-laden as it had been last night.

I’m doomed, Eunmyeong thought as he ran down the corridor.

He was just as absent-minded at the training grounds.

“Ugh…”

Sitting off to the side, Eunmyeong stared blankly ahead. He looked so worn down that even the people training kept glancing his way.

A kiss or two wasn’t the problem. That level of contact happened often enough at the Center. The only difference was that Mujin happened to be exactly his type—but still.

The real problem was the constant stream of Mujin’s voice transmissions.

[Be prepared again tomorrow morning.]

[Sit properly.]

[You look bored. Would it be better if I went over there?]

For someone who rarely spoke, he was talking far too much. Even in novels, voice transmission was a high-level technique only masters of exceptional cultivation could use.

And he’s using it like some kind of puppy CCTV!

Eunmyeong suddenly remembered those pet cameras sold for owners who left their animals at home. You could speak into your phone and your voice would play through a speaker in the house; some even had cameras so you could watch your dog—and call out if it was about to do something dangerous.

[Tang Eunmyeong.]

At the sound of his name again, Eunmyeong turned toward the training grounds. Their eyes met, and Mujin’s lips curved ever so slightly.

If this isn’t a pet cam, then what is it?

Worst of all was the strange tension between them. Mujin’s expression softening every time they met eyes, Eunmyeong’s racing heart, the steadily increasing physical contact.

It felt disturbingly similar to the early stages of dating. Eunmyeong pressed a hand to his forehead.

“What is it, got a headache?”

Yujo had approached, looking concerned. Sitting beside him, he spoke in a low voice.

“Hangover? What’s wrong with you?”

“Haa… Yujo…”

When Eunmyeong lifted his head, his pale face was revealed—plump cheeks, reddened eyes, drooping corners. Yujo turned his head away.

“…What is it this time.”

“Haa… something happened.”

Eunmyeong leaned weakly against Yujo’s shoulder. It was a small movement, but to Yujo it felt like being struck by lightning.

Unaware of Yujo stiffening, Eunmyeong fidgeted with his lips.

“If I drank that poisoned liquor again, could I go back to last night?”

“Are you still drunk?”

“I probably can’t, right?”

“Does that even need asking?”

The sharp reply drained the strength from Eunmyeong’s body. At that exact moment, another transmission came through.

[Time to get up, isn’t it?]

[You seem excessively close.]

[Didn’t we agree you’d only treat when necessary?]

[Can’t you hear me?]

[Tang Eunmyeong.]

[Tang Eunmyeong.]

[Would it be better if I went over there to tell you myself?]

As Mujin’s voice grew more agitated, Eunmyeong let out a deep sigh. Yes, yes. Slowly lifting his head from Yujo’s shoulder, the transmissions finally stopped.

Mujin, who had been watching Eunmyeong with clear displeasure, didn’t approach immediately. After a moment of thought, he moved instead.

If he wouldn’t come, he could simply draw him out. Mujin gestured to Jeongho, who was standing nearby.

“Spar with me.”

All eyes turned to Jeongho—relief and sympathy mixed in their gazes.

“It’s an honor.”

The man himself looked perfectly calm. Standing before Mujin, Jeongho gave a brief martial salute. Mujin returned it with a nod.

With the transmissions gone, Eunmyeong grew uneasy.

“Looks like one of them has to go down before this ends. You’re going to be busy today,” Yujo muttered, clicking his tongue.